Barely Breathing(48)

“Bye.”

I hung up and laid my head against the window of the cab. Nothing like ending a busy work week with a quick cross-county trip. Especially when I was going just to get a signature from a playboy actor with nothing to do but annoy me.

Hopefully I could sleep on the flight. And I’d have extra time with Kane soon. I was already planning to take most of next week off for Christmas. He and I were spending the day together and flying out the day after to see my parents. He didn’t seem freaked out by it at all.

Everything was going so well. Now I just needed Henley’s signature on his divorce papers.



Henley Cartwright was playing games with me. We’d texted back and forth about where I could find him, but he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. I was sitting on the bed of my hotel room eating macadamia nuts from the mini bar–which he’d be paying for–when my phone rang with another text from him.

Henley: Got plans tonight? How do u feel about threesomes?

Me: My plans are to get your signature and fly home. Where can I meet up with you?

Henley: Where’s that naughty teacher?

Me: I’m very close to telling Marcus you don’t seem to actually want this divorce.

Henley: Vivian Marceau, you’ll have to play nicer than that to win me over.

I texted several more times about where he was but he ignored all of them.

Asshole.

I finished the nuts and went back to the mini bar, opening a candy bar and taking one bite before tossing it in a trash can. My means of retribution against Henley weren’t much, but it made me feel slightly better.

Still wiped out from the long flight last night, I curled up on the bed for a nap, leaving my phone next to me in case Henley decided to act like an adult and write back.





WHEN BROOKLYN OPENED THE DOOR and smiled up at me, warmth spread through my chest. I’d never get take that beautiful face for granted.

“Hi, Dad. Want to see my new cheer?”

My throat tightened, burning as I fought back tears. The sound of my little girl calling me ‘Dad’ was like nothing I’d ever heard. It was a gift I’d never thought I could dream of deserving.

What made a good father? I sure as hell hadn’t had one. But I wanted to be one. For now, I knew I needed to focus on Brooklyn and make up for all the time I’d missed. Get to know the person she was. Hopefully give her a look at the person I was, too.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” I said, walking inside and closing the front door behind me.

The smell of baking herbs, tomato sauce and cheese reminded me of the kitchen at the club. Cori kept a neat, clean house for her and Brooklyn. School pictures of our daughter lined the walls. I wanted a home like this one day, where Brooklyn could see how important she was to me.

“Hey,” Cori said, smiling and wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she walked out of the kitchen. “Glad you came.”

“Thanks for asking me.”

Brooklyn took my hand. Another first. Her tiny fingers pulled on mine and she led me to a small sunroom in the back of the house.

“Stand right here,” she said.

I watched as she went to the other side of the room and did a cheer, clapping and yelling and kicking. Cori stood beside me.

“That was amazing,” I said when Brooklyn was done. “You have to be the most kickass cheerleader at your school.”

She smiled and shrugged. “Not really. Madison Porter is.”

I furrowed my brow. “I doubt it. Can she clap as loud as you?”

“She can do eight backflips in a row.”

“You’ll get there, Brook,” Cori said. “Dinner’s ready, guys.”

We all went into the kitchen and sat down at the small table against a wall. Cori had made lasagna and salad. I ate and made small talk with Brooklyn about school, but I had an uncomfortable vibe about this whole thing.

Maybe I was just paranoid. It was only dinner. Cori was letting me get to know Brooklyn in their home, which was probably a lot easier for her. And people had to eat.

Cori started clearing the table when we were done, laying her hand on mine as I picked up my plate to take it to the sink.

“I’ve got it,” she said.

“No, I don’t mind helping. You cooked, so I’ll wash the dishes.”

“Why don’t we do them together?”

I nodded, getting the vibe again. Standing side by side with Cori at her sink didn’t feel right. She’d say something light and bump her hip against mine. Look up at me and smile for no reason.

This was something Viv and I did, and I felt a stabbing sense of guilt over being here with Cori right now.

But it was f*cking dishes. Washing and rinsing and drying. I needed to stop being such a * about it.

Brooklyn walked into the kitchen wearing a backpack and carrying a pillow.

“Kennedy’s mom’s here. See you tomorrow.” She wrapped her arms around Cori’s waist in a hug and then did the same to me.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad.”

“Bye,” I said, wondering where she was going.

“Bye, baby.” Cori kissed Brooklyn and cupped her cheek. “Be safe.”

“We’ll be at Kennedy’s house the whole time, Mom.” Brooklyn rolled her eyes.

“Still.”

Brooklyn glanced at me one more time, smiling. When she left, the kitchen got too quiet. I was washing the dishes and Cori was standing so close to me her hip rested against the side of my upper thigh. I’d scooted down as far as I possibly could, but she’d just followed.